You Got a Friend
by lostcowgirl
Summary: Nine months after Kitty's arrival neither she nor Matt are sure how close they are or how close they want to be. Kitty's misjudging of a man's character provides the impetus for a friendship to become something very special. Inspired by Carole King's song.


**You Got a Friend**

Nine months ago the sight of the biggest, handsomest man I've ever seen caused me to stay in this dirty, ugly town of Dodge City. Since then I've learned that big badge he wears over his heart has claimed him, but it hasn't stopped us from getting to know something of each other. In a sense things are just the way I want them. I've got a man in my life who doesn't demand I put him first even if I'm not sure how close we might become or how close I want him to be. That's because I like the independence I've gained since deciding to stay here even if the reason was a man.

Bill Pence, the owner of the Long Branch Saloon where I've worked since that first day, is a good boss and a good man. He recognized not long after I started that I have much more of a talent for keeping the books straight than he does. He agreed to pay an extra $5 a week when I first started if I tried my hand at them and has been pleased with the results. He also listens to the suggestions I've made to increase profits and found mostly they work. It's my business ability, starting with those books and suggestions, not my success with cards or the superior number of expensive drinks I get the customers to buy, which made him offer me a partnership.

I'm very well paid at $25 per week plus percentages of whiskey sales and poker winnings while dealing for the house, but that doesn't mean it's enough to allow me to save up the money I need to become a full partner sooner rather than later. My expenses are high and I don't mean the private room I keep at Ma Smalley's or the percentage I owe Bill when I take men upstairs to my assigned room here. There are the clothes and meals and things a girl has to buy to look good for the men as well as the doctor's bills when she misjudges one of them while providing special private services. Luckily I don't misjudge them often here and didn't in Abilene where the private part was required and the base pay was much less.

I'm trying to mostly avoid private encounters now that the drovers are in town. They pretty much wear all of us girls down just serving them drinks, dancing and, in my case, fleecing them of their money at poker, and otherwise keeping them happy in the saloon without taking them upstairs or going to their rooms. Today had been particularly hard. I'd been on my feet all afternoon racing from table to table except when I dealt cards. Tonight would mean more racing around and stepped on toes when the drunken Texans decided to dance.

Early on I'd joined Doc Adams and Chester Goode just as they were finishing their dinner to eat my breakfast. The two men were gracious enough to remain while I hurriedly ate my plate of eggs, toast and side meat and drank a cup of coffee so I wouldn't be late for work. Outwardly Doc may be a curmudgeon, but he's a sweet man who's willing to listen and Chester, Matt's assistant, is well, Chester. Matt is that big man with the badge who caused me to make my home here, Marshal Dillon.

His boss was already gone to Fort Dodge, according to Chester, when I got to Delmonico's. Matt may be the reason I've stayed, but I've seen very little of him the past couple of months. It's cattle season. He'll be back in time to keep the unruly cowhands from causing too much damage before they're all too drunk to do anything more, but will be too busy to give me more than a passing nod until both our work days are nearly over. By that time we'll both be too tired to do more than say goodnight.

I started at 2:00 so I could put in an hour going over the books while the crowd was still relatively thin. It's been non-stop customers ever since. My break, such as it was, following the afternoon poker game was over as was my supper. The game ran into my allotted time for a meal break so I made do at the bar with a sandwich made from the meat and bread left from the earlier free lunch, hardboiled eggs and pretzels washed down with a beer. In between eating and getting back to work I even found time to put the poker winnings in the safe. I'd take my share out when Bill and I went over the profits at the end of my shift at midnight, four hours from now.

I looked up from the bar where I'd just returned with an empty tray at the sound of a man's boots as he walked across the floor, hoping it might be Matt stopping by as he made his early rounds. The man I saw was shorter by at least six inches, but just as solidly built and with hair so dark it was black. He was dressed like a businessman from back east, but it was possible he might be a cattle buyer coming to Dodge mid-season. He was sure no Texas drover. I'd had my full of them. By late July enough of the herds have come through that if it weren't for the profit, I'd be glad if I didn't see another Texan until next May.

The stranger joined me where I stood and offered to buy me a drink. I agreed. Bill, back from his own supper, brought him the bottle and the two glasses he requested. I walked with him to a table by the far wall. Even if he didn't prove to be as considerate as I thought he would, at least I'd be off my feet for a bit while continuing to earn my keep.

"I've only been in your town long enough to get off the train and settle in at the Dodge House. I have to say I wasn't too impressed with the town or its so-called best hotel. Then I came in here and spotted you at the bar. It altered my entire perspective. Perhaps this trip will prove worthwhile after all. You definitely provide some class. By the way, my name's Glen Montgomery."

"Kitty Russell," I replied as he pulled out a chair for me. "What brings you to Dodge, Glen?"

For the next hour we sipped his whiskey and talked. I learned he was a businessman from Topeka. While he held shares in the Santa Fe, enough to be on the board, he didn't take part in the every day running of the railroad. Instead, he focused his attention on running a hotel and a private gambling club in our state capitol. He'd ridden the train west to what's the end of the line for now to see if he could find a way to add the excitement of our frontier saloons to his gaming establishment, but without the gunfights and Texas cowboys that started them.

The bottle was empty; giving both of us the perfect excuse to go our separate ways. He left to see what the other saloons, dance halls and gambling houses of Dodge had to offer while I went back to being pawed over and stepped on by the cowboys, gamblers, cattle buyers and drifters who came through town during the season. There was no sign of my special cowboy, as I'd come to think of Matt, but I hardly expected him this early.

All I had to do was survive the next couple of hours relatively intact. I played several more hands of poker and turned down two drunken cowhands who wanted to get to know me better upstairs and a crass man whose eyes undressed me and searched the room continuously as well. I'd be very surprised if he wasn't a gunman looking to further his reputation or simply a hired killer. I'd have to let Matt know about him.

During all the commotion I did manage to spend a restful15 minutes sharing a table and beers with Doc and Chester. It seems our jailer had managed to be bitten on the arm by one of the drunks Matt told him to lock up. He'd been bleeding from the bite and loudly complaining about how much it hurt so Matt told him to go see Doc, but return in time for late rounds. Part of his treatment was apparently to stop by the Long Branch for a drink. I think it was an excuse. Doc, at least, noticed how tired I felt.

"Kitty, I want you to stop by my office first thing tomorrow," he ordered. "You look pale. I want to examine you and talk about how you can keep your strength up until the drovers leave. I'd tell Matt to stop by for his own good, but he won't even listen to my advice before he decides not to take it. At least I have a chance with you even if you do prefer the attentions of that overgrown public servant."

"I know Doc, I need to get more rest. Well, I'll do just that on my next day off. Meanwhile, I'll stop by tomorrow if it will make you happy."

Actually, I was glad of a chance to start my day an hour later. The curly-haired old man and I had become friends. I found Doc was easy to talk to, especially about Matt. We both worried about the man. He carried far too much on his shoulders and both of us believed he risked his life far more than he had to. Also, I found our town physician was willing to listen to my tales of unfulfilled girlish dreams, the kinds of things a girl might tell her father. I hadn't had much contact with mine growing up, especially after mother passed, so it was a new experience for me. Any contact I had with the girls I went to school with back in New Orleans was sporadic, partly due to not wanting certain parties to know exactly where I am, so I had no real news about my father or any other relatives I still had there.

Doc and Chester left and I went back to serving drinks. Fifteen more minutes and I could call it quits until tomorrow. That's when Glen Montgomery returned.

"Kitty, you're the prettiest sight I've seen in this dusty excuse for a town. This is also by far the classiest business establishment of its kind on either side of Front Street. Tell me if I'm wrong, but do you, like the girls I've been with in the other places of entertainment take a man upstairs for some extra fun?"

"I do Glen, if I think the man isn't overly enthusiastic about his pleasures or have exotic tastes in them. I'll take you upstairs, but I can only give you 15 minutes."

I caught Bill's eye before starting up the stairs with Glen. He nodded, indicating he expected me back downstairs to figure the additional fee for the sojourn. I didn't intend to be too long in hopes of Matt walking me home even if his night wasn't over.

Once we were upstairs I fished my key from my skirt pocket and unlocked the door. Glen stood back while I entered first. After closing the door he drew me to him in a hard embrace and took the key before I could put it on the table. Keeping hold of me, the now thoroughly changed man, used it to lock the door. Stepping back, he ordered me to strip as he brought a riding crop out of his coat pocket. The threat was obvious.

"I need to see all that I'm getting. You'll be going with me to Topeka, but in a trunk in the baggage car on the early morning eastbound train along with a couple of other girls. I'll buy out your contract later. I've already taken care of the others."

"Oh no you won't. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Then as I tried to scream, hoping Matt would come to my rescue, he gagged me with his handkerchief. Montgomery held me in a firm grip and while I struggled he succeeded in removing my already revealing work dress. I'd rather die than go back to my old life before I fled from Texas. Even the Abilene saloon I worked at just before coming to Dodge gave me less control than I had here was an improvement over first the riverboat in New Orleans and then the Texas saloon. All I could think was someone had better arrive quickly and the preferred someone was the name I tried to include in my scream.

I continued to struggle, but Montgomery was winning as in my tired state my strength gave out. He had his arms around me lifting the dress over my head when the door burst open. Matt grabbed my attacker by the collar, pulling him away from me just far enough so he could land a solid backhand across the man's face. Matt put me protectively behind him and glared down at the dazed would-be kidnapper.

It wasn't long before the pig I'd mistook for a man began to squeal. He admitted forcing three other girls into trunks that a hireling arranged to be brought to the train depot for loading onto a boxcar before the train left for Topeka. I was to have been the fourth. Matt shoved him out the door and down to the jail. He and Chester would release the girls and let Doc make sure they'd recover from their ordeal. Then unless one of them wanted to press charges, he'd release him in time to make sure he got out of Dodge and stayed out.

I was downstairs with Bill by the time Matt returned. Only a few stragglers remained, including a quartet fully absorbed in their poker game and three or four bucking the tiger at the faro table, plus another five at various tables and standing at the bar. The overnight crew had come to work, including Clem, a trusted bartender who during the slow times worked the morning shift. I'd already collected my share of the night's poker winnings to put in the bank tomorrow. Bill will pay me my regular salary in a couple of days. He'd waved his percentage for using the room in light of what had happened.

Grabbing a couple of beers from Clem I motioned for Matt to join me at the table next to the stairs. He took the beers from me, placed them on the table and pulled out a chair for me to sit in. Finally, he sat down next to me, his back leaning against the wall formed by the stairs and surveyed the room before turning his attention to me.

"What's troubling you Cowboy? Don't tell me nothing; I can see it in your eyes."

"You mean besides somebody attacking you? I'm sure glad I got to you in time and that's a fact."

"If that's a fact, just how did you know I needed you just then? Montgomery gagged me before I could call out for help."

"I don't know Kitty. Somehow I heard a choked off scream and knew you were in trouble. You tried to call out my name, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but Montgomery gagged me before I could. I've answered your question, but you haven't answered mine. What's bothering you?"

"I found the gunman Montgomery hired to do his dirty work. His job included getting rid of me if I got in the way. I stopped him permanently. Trouble is, he saved my life back before the war. Thing is even back then he liked killing too much, but he always backed those he considered friends."

"I take it he either doesn't back his friends anymore or he no longer looks at you as one of them. Was he a slim six-foot tall man with shifty eyes and a hardened look dressed in black, who was clean-shaven and wore his curly blond hair long enough to hang over his collar?"

"Yep. He said now that he knew I was the law, he had to kill me before he left, interference or not. It was him or me."

"Oh, Matt. I'm sorry. You know you've got a friend in me and I promise I'll never try to kill you. Now, could you please walk me home?"

"I reckon after tonight we've got a friend in each other," he said as he offered me his arm.


End file.
